by Kyoko Church
Mr Draper broke their kiss then. He took her face in his hands and, in a gravelly voice, whispered, ‘Lillianne, you’ve intoxicated me. I want you to become my bride. Please say you will.’ He kissed her again then, moving his hands to caress her breasts, pulling them from her bodice and pinching her already erect nipples. Lilly started and nearly climaxed right then. More moisture seeped from between her legs.
‘Oh yes, sir, please,’ she gasped. ‘I mean, I will, I want …’ But she couldn’t speak any more. She was leaning with the top of her buttocks against the desk when Ewan Draper pulled his enormous cock out of his trousers, parted her legs, and thrust it up inside her. She felt the enormity of it stretch her, almost impossibly so, but she was so wet she took all of him and could feel the end of it slam against her insides. Blissfully, all of the nerve endings in that bud of flesh that had sought out the vibrations of her sewing machine were pushed firmly against his body, at the base of his shaft. All of her pent-up tension and desire rushed to that spot as she threw her arms around his neck, one leg around his bottom, grinding her body into him as she felt the dam finally break.
All Lilly could do was hold on to Ewan Draper as her body convulsed; hold on and revel in the bliss of finally being brought over the edge. The flood of sensation was amazing and her pelvic muscles contracted gratefully around his cock in a flood of orgasmic release.
‘My – God,’ Lilly heard her boss sputter, as he emptied his seed inside her.
Chapter Three
The nuptials were planned quickly, mostly by James, eager as he was to get Ewan married off with his reputation intact, thereby setting the stage for the meeting with Maxwell Samms. James knew that if they were to convince Samms to invest a portion of his considerable fortune to expand the mill once more, then everything had to be just right. Not that the first investment hadn’t paid off; the mill was flourishing and it had certainly been a wise financial decision, as James had assured him it would. But Samms was a fickle sort, as well as something of a religious zealot. Plus he was not a stranger to scandal in his own family. It would not do to have his business endeavours called into question.
Seated in his own private office on the first floor of the Draper Estate, James lit his pipe and considered the events of the day. The wedding had been a small but stately affair, brief but quaint, in his opinion. The bride had looked lovely. James paused in his thoughts as he considered Lillianne. She was not who he would have chosen for Ewan. He’d been to the mill last month and it seemed to him there were plenty of plain but serviceable young women who would have been more suitable; women with good birthing hips to produce a wholesome clan of Draper offspring. Of course, when James was last there Lillianne had not come to the mill yet and it was just providence that she would arrive when it was time for Ewan to choose his bride. James could not say exactly why he didn’t altogether approve of the girl. There was something in her eyes … He shook his head. Regardless, she did in fact come from a good, farming family. James had checked into it and there was nothing he could find to even suggest impropriety. He thought then of the Rodham establishment and shivered. Certainly Ewan could have chosen much worse.
James heard laughter in the front foyer and looked out of his office in time to see his boss sweep his new bride up into his arms and start up the wide central staircase, no doubt to the marital bed they would soon share for the first time. And it would be the first time; he had made certain of that by keeping the bride-to-be sequestered away until today.
Lillianne lay in her new bed beside her groom, fidgeting slightly with the soft chiffon nightgown that had been one of her wedding gifts. Beside her, Ewan stretched out like a jungle cat in the warm sun, smiling his wide, charming smile. Turning on his side, he casually lifted a lock of her brown hair in his fingers and twirled it absently. ‘Lilly, my darling, that was amazing,’ he said softly. He stared into her eyes, still caressing her hair, and in so doing grazed the thin fabric of her nightgown against her erect nipple. Her breath caught slightly and she shivered. He seemed not to notice.
Kissing her quickly on the lips, he rolled back, reached over to his night table, and set about lighting a cigar. As he puffed he got up, strode naked across the room, and grabbed his trousers. Pulling them on, he said, ‘I hope you won’t be terribly disappointed. I have a few things to attend to downstairs with James. I may be an hour or two.’ Lilly tried her best to hide her disappointment. ‘I am sure you will come to understand that sometimes my work at the mill takes precedence.’ He looked at her then, his gaze lingering over the outline of her breasts through her thin nightgown and back to her eyes. He hesitated. Then, softly, he added, ‘It won’t be all the time, sweet Lilly.’ He kissed her again and left.
Lilly lay for a while in the darkness, surrounded by the unfamiliarity of her new bedroom. The last two weeks had been a complete blur and she could scarcely believe the life she was now leading. Mrs Draper. Mrs Ewan Draper. Ewan Draper is my husband, she thought giddily. And what a fine specimen of husband he was; his hazel eyes contrasting his jet-black hair, his muscled physique. Every time he smiled at her, Lilly’s heart pumped like the sewing machine she no longer had to use. And even though in some respects the past two weeks had been a whirlwind, in one important way they had been long and unbearably drawn out. That was because of James, Ewan’s manservant.
There had been lots to do for the wedding and Lilly had been kept busy. She was aided by Celeste, Draper Estate’s French-Canadian kitchen maid. The two were about the same age and, despite the circumstances that now placed a huge gap between their statuses at the estate, their backgrounds were not dissimilar. Both had been raised on farms, albeit Celeste in rural Quebec. Lillianne found an ally in Celeste. After her lonely time at the mill amid the workers whose guarded nature bordered on being unfriendly, Lilly realised she was desperate for a friend. Celeste immediately took her in, seeking her out to chatter with and ooh and ah over the dresses and accessories Lilly’s new position now afforded her.
Lily had moved into a guest bedroom at Draper Mansion and she was happy making preparations for her new life, but what she longed for most in those two weeks, what she eagerly anticipated each night, were the moments when Ewan would come home from the mill and they could be together. She would be with Celeste considering the dinner menu or in the drawing room looking over the guest list for the wedding and in he would sweep, filling the room with his enormous presence. The very air she breathed seemed to be transformed when he entered. On these nights he would take her in his strong arms, caress her gently, and murmur in her ear how he missed her, how he had thought about her all day, how he could not wait until she was his bride and they could be together every night. And just when his words would stop and his lips would find hers, as his hands began roaming her body, James would appear in the doorway. He would clear his throat or perhaps remind Ewan of some late business that needed attending. ‘James is just looking out for me, for my reputation – and yours,’ Ewan assured his soon-to-be bride as he adjusted the bulk that their embrace had arisen in his trousers and stood to leave her. ‘We’ll have all the time in the world soon enough, my love.’
So Lilly had dreamed of her wedding night and all the passion it would bring, especially after the intensity of their first clandestine union that seemed another lifetime ago, in the backroom of Draper Industries. Now, though, she lay alone, her body still humming with all of that built-up anticipation.
Their marital consummation had been quick. They were barely in bed before her new husband, whispering of how much he had been fantasizing about this moment, mounted and entered her. Lilly knew he was big after that first time, but this time there was pain as his swollen flesh penetrated her. She gasped with the shock of it. And then, suddenly, it was over and he was gone.
Lilly didn’t understand the way she was feeling. How could that first melding of their bodies, hurried and in a stuffy back room of the mill when they were veritable strangers, have brought her so much joy, a mad rush of sh
eer ecstasy, when this time, in bed as husband and wife, had left her so … So what? Needy. Wanting.
The sewing machine.
Her mind went back to the din of the mill, sitting at her machine, and how the chair vibrated with her work. Her heart beat faster and she felt herself moisten as she remembered pressing down against those vibrations while imagining the man who would become her husband exploring her body. As she lay there remembering, she reached down under the blankets, under her nightgown, her fingers seeking out the spot, the place on her body that had felt the vibrations and needed that stimulation.
Later that night, the details of his meeting with Samms attended to, Ewan returned to the bedroom to see his new bride. But he was unprepared for what he would find when he opened the door.
The glow from the candle he carried illuminated the darkened room just enough for him to see. The bodice of her nightdress had come loose at the seams, leaving the olive-coloured skin of her breasts and darkened nipples exposed. Her legs were spread wide and her fingers worked steadily at the apex of her sex. He blinked in disbelief as he perceived a tallow candle protruding from her sopping hole. She was working it slowly in and out with her other hand. But the foreign object she used was not what shocked and angered him the most. With her head thrown back, her hair a wild, dark waterfall cascading around her shoulders and brushing her nipples, and her eyes shut tight, her face was a mask of sheer ecstasy. So engrossed was she in her passion that she did not even hear his entrance. Her moans came louder as she thrust the candle faster and harder. He could see it glisten with her wetness. The fingers of her other hand stroked faster as her cries seemed to be working to a crescendo. He was incredulous that this woman, his bride, was so wanton, so lustful that she was defiling their marital bed in his house, under his roof, with her vile actions. He was livid. And his cock was rock hard.
‘Whore!’ he shouted as he moved to the bed. Placing his own candle down on the night table, he snatched the one protruding from her pussy and flung it across the room. As she scrambled to recover herself, his wife’s body shook with fear and, it seemed, something else. She tried to rearrange the bedclothes to regain some shred of her tattered modesty but Ewan flung those away as well. ‘Now that I have discovered your true whoring nature, let us not cling to falsehoods. How dare you purport yourself to be worthy of the title of my wife when it is evident that you are nothing but a common slut? My God, Weiler was right!’
‘My love, I wasn’t … I mean, I didn’t mean to …’
He grabbed her hands and held them to his face. ‘Do you dare deny your actions? I saw where these hands were.’ He brought her fingers to his nose and inhaled. Her scent at once aroused his passion and inflamed his ire further. Holding her wrists above her head, he moved to mount her. ‘I’ve heard of your kind,’ he rasped in her ear. ‘Couldn’t spend an hour without having something hard in your cunt? Well, I’ll oblige you, then.’ And with that he thrust himself inside her.
Ewan had been with hundreds of women, but never before had he experienced sliding his substantial rod inside a woman in one push, the way he was able to with Lilly. He was uncommonly large and he usually had to work for some time to gain entry, often spitting on his hand and lubricating his dick in an effort to work his girth into the woman he was fucking. But, as she had been the first time he took her in the backroom of the mill, Lilly was so wet, so ready to receive him, that he slid into her tight hole like he was sliding into velvet. Her slick tightness immediately contracted around him and she bucked and moaned. He worked his cock like a piston, in and out, fuelled by rage and lust. The more she gasped and clung to him the more enraged and aroused he became. He felt his seed bubbling up in his balls. Never had he bedded a woman who acted with passion that equalled his own. What kind of demon had possessed this woman to make her act like a man? Indeed, she seemed to be working to her own climax. She pushed her pelvis up to meet him and when she cried out he felt her sex pulse and cling around his shaft, accompanied by a sudden gush of wetness. The unexpected contractions stole his breath and he came quickly, barely realising it was happening until it was upon him. He was left gasping and twitching on top of her.
Leaving the room after he’d hastily readjusted his trousers, he paused at the door. ‘You better be out of this house by morning, slut,’ he growled. Then he was gone.
Two nights later, however, Lillianne was not only still at Draper Mansion, Ewan was again in the master bedroom with her. But this time he was not alone.
Chapter Four
Phillip Samms and Ewan Draper had been friends since their time together as boys at Andover. Afterward, while Ewan was growing his many entrepreneurial enterprises, particularly the mill, Phillip went on to study medicine at Harvard. If you could call what Phillip did studying. He was bright but easily distracted and he considered his studies more like a hobby, a sidebar to his real passion – which was women. Needless to say, anatomy class was the only one he never missed. He came from money and as long as the old man continued to subsidise Harvard’s growing campus, Phillip could hardly be thrown out. Ewan was not even sure if Phillip ever graduated.
After what Ewan saw late on his wedding night, he could not get his wanton new bride and her lascivious actions out of his head. He bid James ensure she did not leave the premises as he’d commanded and sought out Phillip for consultation.
‘I have heard of women such as this one,’ Phillip had said after Ewan recounted a detailed description of the night’s events. ‘You were right to consult me. It could be that she is in need of medical assistance, Ewan. She should be kept under close scrutiny.’ It was decided that Phillip would stay in the adjoining room in secrecy, so as to monitor Lillianne’s actions. If he suspected a repeat of what Ewan had witnessed he would summon his friend. ‘In the meantime,’ Phillip said, ‘I will consult my medical journals and educate myself on this sort of behaviour.’ Unbeknown to Lillianne, Ewan set up his friend in the guest room next to the master. The next night, when Phillip perceived soft sighs and stifled moans from the other side of the thin wall separating them, he immediately summoned Ewan. He came at once, and so it was that the two men stood over Lillianne in the master bedroom at Draper Mansion.
For her part, Lillianne had at least kept the bedclothes covering her this time and the candle had not moved from the bedside. But there could be no mistaking the rapid movements under the covers that the two men perceived as they walked in.
‘Phillip, you see now with your own eyes!’ Ewan said, still incredulous himself as he tore back the covers to reveal the young woman’s hand rapidly retreating from its work between her legs. ‘Slut!’ he spat. ‘Whore!’
‘Now calm down, Ewan, until we see what we’re dealing with,’ Phillip said, as his eyes roamed over Lillianne’s quivering body. ‘I’ll need to do a thorough examination.’ She feebly attempted to cover herself with her hands but Ewan grabbed them and, as he had previously, held them above her head so his colleague could perform his exam.
Phillip slid his hands over Lilly’s soft skin, studying her closely and measuring her every reaction. Her eyes appeared glazed with a faraway look. When he drew his hand down her cheek and ran his fingers over her lips, she wet them with her tongue and parted them slightly. He traced her lips and then ran his fingertips along her neck and down between her swelling breasts. When he gently cupped them and lightly pinched her nipples, the two men watched intently as she closed her eyes, sighed, and pushed her pelvis up. Pinching the puckered flesh a little harder caused her to gasp and moan.
‘This will be the true test,’ Phillip murmured almost to himself as he slowly moved his hand down between Lillianne’s legs. Holding two fingers together and with his palm up, he slowly pushed inside her dark canal. Sighing loudly, Lilly pushed herself down to meet him, until his fingers were completely enveloped within her flesh. Slowly Phillip retracted his fingers to reveal that they were covered with a slick, viscous wetness.
‘What is it, doctor?’ Ewan asked.
‘Seed,’ Phillip said quietly.
‘I don’t understand.’
Phillip cleared his throat. ‘Women of this nature have an abundance, an accumulation of fluid, just as a man does.’
‘Of this nature?’ Ewan questioned.
‘Well, I can’t be sure yet. There is one last thing,’ Phillip mumbled as he parted her labia and pubic hair to reveal her swollen clitoris. He bowed his head.
‘It is as I suspected,’ he said. ‘Nymphomania.’
With his finger still wet from her fluids, he began to stroke Lillianne’s turgid bud of flesh slowly up and down. She cried out and wriggled under his hand but Ewan still held fast to her wrists above her head.
‘As you and I know, normal women do not desire nor even need physical gratification the way a man does,’ Phillip explained as he continued stroking his patient. ‘Most women never think of such things and, in the case of married women, just tolerate their husband’s advances in the course of their marital duties.’ He paused briefly as Lillianne’s cries reached a peak, waited a moment, and then continued stroking more slowly. ‘A woman suffering from this affliction has a compulsive and irrepressible desire for intercourse with a man. Physically, even, she is different. Every woman has what is called a clitoris, a small collection of nerve endings normally hidden beneath what is known as the clitoral hood. In a case such as this one –’ and he stopped rubbing again, pulled Lilly’s legs farther apart, and again spread her labia wide open with two fingers for his friend’s view ‘– you can see the clitoris is swollen, distended, and discoloured from all the blood rushing to it, not unlike a small cock. If I rub gently here at the tip –’ and he began to move the pad of his wet finger in small, quick circles at the peak of her flesh, producing ever more feverish cries and writhing ‘– you can see there is a significant reaction.’